Back Woods

Chapter Seven

In the bustling corridors of St. Mary's Hospital, the fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the linoleum floors. Exhausted and fatigued, Tess briskly walked down the hallway, her scrubs, now covered in an array of bodily fluids, rustled with each step. The hours blurred into one and the hospital became a tapestry of pain and grief. Tirelessly Tess moved from one room to another, comforting families, consoling loved ones, and holding the hands of those making their final journey. Each beep from the heart monitor echoed like a somber drumbeat, a haunting rhythm that marked the passage from life to whatever lay beyond.

Walking towards a doorway, she gave a tired exhale and opened the door of  one of the wards where Mr. Anderson, a middle-aged man, who had been bought in during all of the hysteria, awaited her attention. Allowing a forced, warm smile to grace her face she approached his bedside, "Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson. How are we feeling?"

His tired eyes lit up at the sight of her and sent a beaming grin in her direction,  "Better with you here, Nurse,"

Chuckling, Tess pulled the chart at the end of his bed and snatched a pen from her pocket. As she checked his vitals, they engaged in light conversation about the weather, family, and his favorite pastimes.

"So, why did they bring you in here?", she questioned, stilling her writing and peering over the clipboard.

Sitting upward on his elbows, he gave a small wince, before lying back down, "I ain't sure, I was caught up in all the rioting and madness out there. The next thing I know, I wake up and I am here,"

Leaning forward, Tess took out a small light and checked the man's eyes, where a webbed redness was attacking the whites of his eyes. Once again, the man, rose upward and repositioned his pillows and Tess narrowed her eyes on the redness that had now stained the white cotton, "Mr. Anderson, I'm just going to check your back for you okay?"

"Sure thing," the man retorted, as Tess placed a hand on his shoulder to help him sit upright and with a steady hand she slowly lifted up the stained fabric of his thick checkered shirt. Mr Anderson let out a pained hiss as she did so. Her eyes widened, on seeing a long, thin scratch in the man's lower back. Lowering her hand and hovering her fingers above the seeping wound, her eyebrows furrowed on noticing the width was a perfect match.

"Mr Anderson were you assaulted prior to you coming here?" she questioned, making him comfortable once more on the pillows, before removing the rubber gloves from her hands. In response, the man shook his head and pulled up the blanket to his chin, "No ma'am," he whispered back, shutting his eyes.

***

Throughout the night, the nurses were instructed to start evacuating some of the patients and with the support and orders of the increasing number of soldiers they carefully assisted in wheeling patients to the many vehicles awaiting in the ambulance bays. Within the hospital, the number of staff had deteriorated as they had rushed home to their families.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Tess turned to her fellow nurses and excused herself to the restroom. Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she sighed deeply on seeing nothing but exhaustion staring back at her. In the stillness of that moment, Tess collected herself, drew a deep breath and exited the doorway to return to her duties. In the last few hours, she had seen more despair and death than she had ever seen in her whole career. Over time, each death left an indelible mark on her soul, but she knew her role extended beyond the pain. She was a source of solace for those left behind, a compassionate presence in their darkest hours.

As dawn painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Tess stepped out of the hospital doorways for a brief moment of respite. The hospital, wrapped in the quiet of early morning, seemed to exhale.